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As a fick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me,
A man of fuch a feeble temper fhould

So get the start of the majestic world,
And bear the palm alone.

BRU. Another general fhout!

I do believe, that these applauses are

For fome new honours that are heap'd on Cæfar.
CAS.

Why man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Coloffus; and we petty men

Walk under his huge legs, and peep about
To find ourselves difhonourable graves.
Men at fometimes are mafters of their fates

The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

:

Brutus and Cæfar-what should be in that Cæfar?
Why should that name be founded, more than your's?
Write them together; your's is as fair a name :
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;
Weigh them it is as heavy; conjure with 'em,
Brutus will start a spirit as foon as Cæfar.
Now, in the names of all the gods at once,
Upon what meats does this our Cæsar feed,
That he is grown fo great? Age, thou are fham'd;
Rome, thou haft loft the breed of noble bloods.
When went there by an age, fince the great flood,
But it was fam'd with more than with one man?
When could they fay, till now, that talk'd of Rome,
That her wide walls incompafs'd but one man?
Oh! you and I have heard our fathers fay,

There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd
Th' eternal devil to keep his state in Rome

As eafily as a king.

BRU.

BRU. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous;
What you would work me to, I have fome aim:
How I have thought of this, and of thefe times,
I fhall recount hereafter: for this prefent,

I would not (fo with love I might intreat you)
Be any further mov'd. What you have faid,
I will confider; what you have to say,
I will with patience hear; and find a time
Both meet to hear, and anfwer fuch high things.
Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this;
Brutus had rather be a villager,

Than to repute himself a fon of Rome

Under fuch hard conditions as this time

Is like to lay upon us.

CAS. I am glad that my weak words

Have ftruck but thus much fhew of fire from Brutus.

SHAKESPEAR.

CHA P. XV.

BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, AND ARVIRAGUS.

BEL.

GOODLY day! not to keep houfe, with fuch

A whole roof say low as tuk, Ive, boys! this gate

Inftructs you how t'adore the heav'ns; and bows you
To morning's holy office. Gates of monarchs
Are arch'd fo high, that giants may jet through,
And keep their impious turbands on, without

Good morrow to the fun. Hail, thou fair heav'n!
We house i' th' rock, yet ufe thee not fo hardly

As prouder livers do.

GUID.

Hail, Heav'n!

ARV. Hail, Heav'n!

BEL

Confider,

BEL. Now for our mountain fport, up to yond hill,
Your legs are young. I'll tread these flats.
When you, above, perceive me like a crow,
That it is place which leffens and fets off:
And you may then revolve what tales I told you,
Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war;
That fervice is not fervice, fo being done,
But being fo allow'd. To apprehend thus,
Draws us a profit from all things we fee;
And often, to our comfort, fhall we find
The fharded beetle in a fafer hold,

Than is the full-wing'd eagle. Oh, this life
Is nobler than attending for a check;
Richer, than doing nothing for a bauble;
Prouder, than ruftling in unpaid-for filk.
Such gain the cap of him, that makes them fine,
Yet keeps his book uncrofs'd;—no life to ours.
GUID. Out of your proof you speak; we, poor, unfledg'd,
Have never wing'd from view o' th' neft; nor know
What air's from home. Haply this life is beft,
If quiet life is beft; fweeter to you,

That have a fharper known; well correfponding
With your ftiff age: but unto us, it is
A cell of ign'rance; travelling a bed;
A prifon, for a debtor that not dares
To ftride a limit.

ARV. What should we speak of,

When we are old as you? When we shall hear
The rain and wind beat dark December? how,
In this our pinching cave, fhall we discourse
The freezing hours away? We have feen nothing;
We're beaftly; fubtle as the fox for prey,

Like warlike as the wolf, for what we eat.
Our valour is to chafe what flies; our cage
We make a choir, as doth the prifon'd bird,
And fing our bondage freely.

BEL. How you speak!

Did you but know the city's ufuries,

And felt them knowingly; the art o' th' court,
As hard to leave, as keep; whofe top to climb,
Is certain falling; or fo flipp'ry, that

The fear's as bad as falling; the toil of war;

A pain that only feems to feek out danger

I' th' name of fame and honour; which dies i' th' fearch, And hath as oft a fland'rous epitaph,

As record of fair act; nay, many time,

Doth ill deferve, by doing well: what's worfe
Muft curt'fy at the cenfurc.-Oh, boys, this story
The world might read in me: my body's mark'd
With Roman fwords; and my report was once
First with the best of note. Cymbeline lov'd me;
And when a foldier was the theme, my name
Was not far off: then was I as a tree,

Whofe boughs did bend with fruit. But, in one night,
A ftorm, or robbery, call it what you will,

Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves;
And left me bare to weather.

GUID. Uncertain favour!

BEL. My fault being nothing, as I have told you oft, But that two villains (whofe falfe oaths prevail'd Before my perfect honour) fwore to Cymbeline, I was confed'rate with the Romans: so Follow'd my banishment; and, this twenty years, This rock and thefe demesnes have been my world;

Where

Where I have liv'd at honeft freedom; paid
More pious debts to Heaven, than in all

The fore-end of my time.-But, up to th' mountains!
This is not hunter's language; he that strikes

The venison first, shall be the lord o' th' feast;
To him the other two shall minister,

And we will fear no poison, which attends
In place of greater state.

I'll meet you in the valleys.

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